


You Like A Challenge?

by lilac_red



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Brother/Brother Incest, Cruelty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Hetalia Characters - Freeform, Innocence, Latin Hetalia, Lust, M/M, Mild Kink, Multi, Nekotalia, Nyotalia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex for Favors, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5908402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilac_red/pseuds/lilac_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an ACTUAL UsUk story! I promise!</p><p>Dressed only in the finest wear affordable, fit to their size. Experts in play-on-words to charm even the most scrupulous of guests. Knowledgeable in the most common of subjects. Alluring like the cursed apple that tempted Eve. Mannered as if they were working for the queen herself. Perfect from their very core (when they're working). These people are trained to exploit themselves in high society. These people are Escorts. Alfred wants to be one of them. He wants to, but can he with his personality? Well, everyone likes a challenge now, don't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Appointment

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a lot of drama in this story!!

20-

30-

At least 40 stories high, the building stood from ground level. The exterior gleamed, the glass, the building was entirely made of glass from the outside except for some obvious metal areas, had been washed accordingly at 8:15 a.m. and will soon need another before noon in order for the luster to less fade. Its shape was odd as it curved around the edges, concave, giving the establishment more of a threatening air than a welcoming one for new and prospecting employees.

But it should, after all, the employment this facilities offers is not mean for weak-heart-ed individuals. _SeKkuSu Company_ , or _SeKS co_. for short, would not dare waste their time and money on training every talentless sap who waltzes in their front door. So, in order for their time to not be wasted, every candidate must go through the very _long_ and _extensive_ interview _(s)_. There are exceptions for those who's "resumes" pleased the President, and Alfred F. Jones just so happened to have been one of those who's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred's jaw dropped the moment he stepped out of the taxi. He was expecting the company to look equivalent to some high class bar or a whore house, but never, never in his very childlike mind did he expect the building to look like a freakin' condo building! A very expensive condo building from the outside! Did he have the right address?

Looking down at the crumpled piece of paper in his hands, he read the numbers and looked on the door. Yup, he was in the right place.

The American quickly stuffed the crumpled paper inside his jean's pocket, closed his mouth, smoothed his hair, and at least tried to look mature and not like some super excitable teen, which was kind of hard considering his giddiness was at all time high. His broh from college had told about how exceedingly hard it was to get a job at SeKS, he had applied five times and each time was dismissed by a measly letter in the mail. However, when Alfred applied, sending an actual resume along with a few head shots of himself like the application requested through mail, he was immediately contacted three days later to set up a face-to-face interview with someone from the company. He did not need to bring anything except his entire presence, and a nice selection of clothes he was wearing. A nice black V neck and fitting jeans, emphasizing his muscular, yet lean body.

With confidence, Alfred strode past the glass doors and into the mammoth building where he almost tripped on his sneakers from watching the outside contradict greatly with the interior of the building. Extravagant would be putting it mildly, it was like a work of art compared to those Home Decorating issues that showed the trendiest of living quarters! It was high class, clean from every nook and cranny, and absolutely chique. Marble floors, one-way glass walls, an young secretary, a chandilier, a spiral staircase! Alfred was half-tempted to run from the place, nothing good ever comes from working in a place that looks _that_ nice without any guards present (he just now noticed the absent of people), but he didn't and he wasn't going to.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling all the same, the American continued onward until he was right in front of the desk belonging to the young secretary, who was at the moment had her bun-tied back to him with, speaking into a wireless headphone and organizing papers. Alfred thought this was a good chance to try out his "skills" on the brunette to, you know, check on his qualification for the job. He wasn't so confident in his flirting techniques, but he knew for a fact, not trying to sound like a narcissist, he was very attractive.

Tactfully, the sandy-blond took off his glasses and slightly leaned on the counter in a posture that said, "I'm interested." Even if the woman turned out to be years beyond his age, as gross as it sounds. His baby blue eyes, the most mesmerizing feature about him, watched and waited for her to turn.

When she did, surprisingly slow, he almost slipped. Partly because he was thankful the secretary was young and partly because he was definitely not expecting her to be like, well, _hotter than hell_! A small face, with sharp features, skin that practically made-out with the sun, tall, long limbs, full mouth, and contrasting blue eyes a shade lighter than his! Although, the way her white dress shirt clung to her body and how her black skirt defined her waistline should have been obvious hints. She merely blinked at his presence, curious but uninterested like his sun-kissed face, sturdy body, and natural charm (as he was told he had) didn't affect her at the least.

"May I help you?" Her perfect eyebrow arched in question.

Quickly, Alfred recovered. Propping his winning grim and pouring his personality into the air he spoke,"Alfred F. Jones, I have an appointment today with Mr. Honda." He did not miss the double take his words brought on the attractive woman. Then, as if taking his words like a consideration, the secretary looked Alfred up once over again while carefully propping a brown file open.

Hey, maybe Alfred was actually good for this kind of work. It might not take long for him to get her number, not like he was planning to but not like he was going to reject the offer either.

Quizzically, the secretary's eyes glanced from the file back to Alfred, "Don't you need glasses to see, Mr. Jones," and he actually slipped this time, but caught himself before he hit the table, the secretary jumped but just merely cocked her head to the side.

He didn't want to, but Alfred looked up a nervous, cheesy smile on his face, all bravado gone from his self-esteem,"Uh, y-yeah, but I wasn't too sure if I should wear them for the interview or not. Honestly, I wasn't sure, but I have them right here." He pulled his case out from the back of his jeans and put on the bespectacles, his cowlick on his hair standing up once again.

When he looked back at the secretary she was still cocking her head, but her face no longer showed "uninterest " just pure perplexity and something in her eyes looked genuine too. With a nod of her head and a hostess smile she tapped the buttons on the phone in front of her, "It's Isabella, Mr. Honda. You're 11:45 is here to see you. Yes. Then I'll bring him right up," she clicked the button on her one-ear headphone and walked around to the left of the desk to exit her area. The secretary stood in front of Alfred and gave him another pretty smile, "I'll take you to see Mr. Honda. Follow me."

Thus, he followed her to the elevator hiding a little ways away.


	2. Interview

The elevator ride took a while, apparently Mr. Honda's office was near the top, Isabella, the secretary whose name he overheard when she was speaking through the headphone, explained, but that was as far as their conversation went. Alfred felt like he was sweating bullets (he wasn't really, he checked discreetly). What would they say? How should he answer? Did he remember everything? Was there still time for him to back out? Maybe, he could just forge-

_Knock. Knock._

"We're here, Mr. Honda."

_Shit!_

"You may enter." A foreign sounding voice said from the other side of the thick looking door.

Isabella clicked opened the door. Alfred saw an opportunity and hurriedly held it open for the secretary. She gave him a quick, polite smile before entering the room and introducing him to the man standing in front of his desk, "Mr. Honda, this is Alfred F. Jones. Your 11:45 appointment." She gestured to the American who had just closed the black door to the eggshell painted room.

The room didn't have anything special worth mentioning other than book case, a small flat screen hanging on the corner behind the desk, a desk, a few paintings, and very comfortable looking chair that the American really wanted to sit on. His interviewer, though, did catch the American off-guard. Mr. Kiku Honda, he presumed from the engraved name plate that stood proudly on his desk along with a clutter of papers and files, looked _pretty_ , if the word could be used to describe a man. His complexion was very white, raven-cropped hair, adorned a slightly feminine face, a kind smile on pink lips, warm caramel-colored eyes, and a calming, almost soothing air about this man who was of obvious Asian decent. Was it weird for Alfred to think this man looked a lot like a male reincarnation of Snow White? 

"It is nice to you, Mr. Jones. I am Kiku Honda, your interviewer." Another gentle smile graced his lips and his frail looking arm extended in a hand shake position.

Alfred didn't intend to answer the way he did. He wanted to answer his interview in a suave, charming way like he's seen countless charismatic actor do in movies, but no. Sadly, because of his interviewer's calming aura Alfred entirely forgot to act professional and thus regarded Mr. Honda in such an un elegant way, "Hi, you can call me Alfred," with an easy going, almost goofy smile.

He inhaled sharply, realizing he'd just goofed up his one chance of appearing like the cool and charming type of escort he was going for. A faint blush crept up his neck, unintentionally and unknown to Alfred.

The interviewer and secretary just looked at the flustered man. Isabella was more gawking than staring compared to the slight dilation in Kiku's eyes, but neither said a word as the American's neck turned an amusing shade of lobster red.

Kiku was the first out of his mildly shocked state as he graced the poor man with a lovely smile and took his hand in a firm shake, making the American realized that Mr. Honda was indeed a Sir, "Then you may address me as 'Kiku.' Now, let us take a seat and get to your interviewer, shall we?"

Alfred didn't verbally respond, he was afraid he would say something stupid again so, he simply nodded and took a seat in the less comfortable looking chair.

Isabella took Mr. Honda's inclination as her cue to leave, silently, but she was stopped by the same man, "Please wait, Isabella," she cringed, fighting the urge to flat-out ignore Mr. Honda and go back to her post before her shift ends, "Could you stay here and organize some papers for me?" Isabella's eyes flickered to the stacks of papers behind him then up to the clock the flat screen was dispalying. Her shift ends in less than fifteen minutes, but there was no way she could disobey a higher level of authority like the very President of _SeKS_. Something the American had yet to find out. But there were other reasons why she didn't want to be around the _kind_ looking Japanese man.

With an internal sigh and a fake smile of her own, Isabella agreed and hastily moved to organize the blank papers.

Alfred on other hand, felt himself grow even more nervous with an audience present to hear screw his interview up and not get the job, especially a very attractive audience. He was beginning to wonder if everyone working within this business was unnaturally beautiful.

"Now Alfred, I'm going to ask you a variety of questions. You don't need to worry. Just answer the questions like you would normally say and do.You don't have to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable, alright?"

Alfred became a little wary at the "questions that make you uncomfortable," part of Mr. Honda's explanation but he agreed. Some of the questions he was asked to answer were like the regular prerequisite employment questions he's heard. His full legal name, Alfred Freedom Jones; birth date, July 4, 1996; his education, still in college; his hobbies, likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses. It was a little odd, the way Mr. Honda worded them, but Alfred answered them naturally.

He didn't get worried until Mr. Honda's question's became more directed at his social life, more specifically his dating history, "How old were you when had your first kiss? How many people have you dated? Do you have a specific type you're attractive to? Are you currently dating anyone? If so, how are they like?"

In his mind, Alfred could see many red flags warning him that the further the "questioning" (more like interorgating) got the more alarming the question would be. He was pretty sure Mr. Honda was breaking a few laws by asking a prospecting employee all of this, but he answered anyway. His first kiss was in fourth grade with a cute bldone. He's dated too many girls to count. He was attracted to, his eyes not-so-discreetly, wandered to the back of the secretary, attractive, fun loving, open-minded people. No, he wasn't dating anyone at the moment.

Alfred thought he was on a roll until the next two questions popped up, "How are you been described in bed? Were you compatible with all your partners?"

The American had spluttered, he was thankful he hadn't taken up Mr. Honda's offer for water, as his neck, nose, ears, and cowlick (?) turned the most profound shade of red the interviewer and secretary had ever seen. He only, barely managed to nod his head and give a drawled, "Uh-huh," as his answer. Alfred prayed to the heavens that somehow, in someway, the interviewer had missed his virgin-like response.

His prayers were answered because Mr. Honda had moved on to the other set of question like he had previously. Surprisingly, it was the last set of question he had to the answer, the ones were the employer asked what he would do if he got the job.

"Mr. Jones, you seem like a very smart, put-together individual. Why would someone like you want to work as an escort?"

The young man in question looked back at the frail looking Japanese man in confusion, "Why would I want to? You make it sound like it's a bad thing that I want to work here."

"No, no, please don't misunderstand. I'm sure you are aware that our line of "employment" is far different than any other. You're practically selling yourself to spend time with rich people for money. There are other, easier ways to make money out there." The Japanese hinted, his eyes growing momentarily cold at the young man before him.

Alfred shrunk a little under the gaze but still spoke his mind, "I don't think being an escort is such a bad thing and I'm sure they're not just 'selling' themselves to rich people like some whores," his voice grew a little stronger, "and I'm not in it to make easy money, even though I do expect to get paid. It's because I think it's awesome how they get paid for being _themselves_. A job were you're remembered for spending time with people and lighting up a room by being there! I think... that makes these escorts incredibly amazing." His baby blue eyes glowed in awe for the people, the person he wanted become like. So much so, that he wasn't aware that the room had gone deathly silent.

" I see... If you were to be hired as an escort today, Mr. Jones, and you fit the criteria for the type one of our _male_ costumers was looking for, would you take the job?"

Now this question, Alfred didn't know how to answer with the same bravado as before so he simply gave a somewhat brave, "Y-Yes, if it was a job." It wasn't like the American was homophobic, he was okay with people falling in love with whoever, he had a few friends who were like that, but he himself had never felt the same attraction he felt towards a female, directed to a man.

Kiku seemed satisfied by his answered as he nodded his head and smiled cheerily. Though, it didn't last as he moved on the last question, "Now Alfred, I know you don't know the specifics for the job as escort, but I'm sure you can catch the gist of it. With that in mind, I want to tell you that there are _strict_ regulations you must follow, but none are as important as the first."

Alfred felt a shiver run up his spine as his interviewer's tone turned more oppressive and quite menacing. The rule must have been life-threatening important if Mr. Snow White was acting this way, so Alfred tuned in listen carefully to make sure he never defied it.

"There is absolutely no _work place dating_ allowed here in _SeKS_." 

The American had to stop himself from laughing hysterically. Seriously? No dating allowed in the company? That was the big deal? However, Alfred's mocks were only short lived.

"It is troublesome for not only the company but the customers. This could potentially lead to money laundering, slander, sabotage, and lawsuits from our unsatisfied customers. The Business would go bankrupt! I don't care who you date outside the work, or if you develop a crush on a fellow co-worker, you have that right at least, but do not engage in a loving relationship with them, understand?" The Japanese man's suit managed to get wrinkled, even though he was still seated, as he seethed out each and every individual word to make an emphasis.

"Yes! I completely understand, Mr. Honda. I will absolutely not date anyone within the company! Thank you for giving me this great opportunity of meeting you!" Alfred quickly stood up and shook his head vigorously. His voice had gone an octave higher, and he quickly hacked it back to normal.

In response, Kiku smiled and stood up, "It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Alfred," He outstretched his hand which Alfred hurriedly shook, " Now go home and get some rest. You full day planned here, tomorrow."

 "D-Does that mean I..." The American didn't dare to finish his sentence in fear he was wrong, but his excited brain kept telling him he was right on the mark.

"You got the job, Mr. Jones." Alfred fist pumped the air, his excitement taking over his entire being as he thanked Kiku again and almost skipped out of the room in glee.

Mr. Honda merely smiled after the young man before plopping himself down back on his chair. He was tired but glad the interview didn't go as horribly as he expected. On the other hand, the secretary openly scoffed as she stopped "organizing" the files.

"Is something amusing you, Isabella?" Kiku asked, never forgetting that the secretary was still in the room with him. It was pretty hard too because of her physical appearance and critical attitude.

"If by 'amusing' you mean bothering me, then yes, there is." The Mexican woman walked to the side of the President's desk, pushed some of the things away, and sat on the edge with one leg over the other. Her hand stood holding herself from slipping and her eyes glared down on the innocent looking man. Ha! He was anything but the word.

"What's bothering you?" He asked. His expression as faultless as ever.

 _As if you don't know_ , Isabella rolled her eyes, "Why did you hire someone like him?"

"Oh? Is he not _good enough_ for you?" He mocked, a hint of a smirk at the very edge of his lips.

Isabella had to hold back her desire to slap him. She really hated this aspect about Mr. Honda, "Kiku," she cursed herself for using his name, "did you not see the way he was reacting so innocently? His blush, his answers? Even his body was too honest. He'll never get any business."

"I'm sure he will bring us plenty." Kiku answered, fixing his suit before standing up.

"I'm willing to bet that kid is a virgin. We're not just selling sex here like some whore house." Isabella spat with crossed arms. Her icing gaze bore at him as he walked around the desk, until he was right in front of her.

He didn't look happy at her attempt to slander the business name, "No, we're not and I was aware of his actions the entire time we talked. He's still a diamond in the rough, don't you think?"

The secretary thought for a moment, "He was handsome, I'll give him that, and his reactions were cute, but that type of innocence is what Feliciano is good at. Plus, _he_ isn't a virgin."

An amused smile grew on his pink lips as he pretended to tiredly shake his head, "I apologize. You are still a child so you do not understand, yet, " Isabella's lips thinned into a straight line, "Allow me to explain. We're going to _make him_ into a popular male escort."

"Really?" Her eyes had an unmistakable mirth within them as she looked at Kiku, "And just _how_ are planning to make the _innocent boy_ into such a 'lady killer?'"

An uncharacteristic grin spread across the Japanese man's angelic face as he moved himself closer to whisper in the secretary's ear, "Do you know how geologist find precious jewels? First, they need to find a particular rock. Second, they polish it until it shines. Thirdly, they break it open to discover what kind of gem is in the rock. Fourthly, if they like the diamond they'll polish it again, display it, and sell it much faster."

Isabella only shivered, but wasn't entirely sure if it was a reaction to her boss's breath on her skin or his intended plans for the poor American man. Kiku chuckled darkly at the young woman's reaction and he lightly nipped her earlobe.

"What do you think you're doing to a child, _Mr. Honda_?" Isabella's voice dripped venom as she reminded her superior how he had regarded her not too long ago.

Kiku backed away and merely smiled, that fake smile of his, "Are you a child?"

"You referred to me as one and you are far older than I am," It was clear to anyone that the secretary was pouting and it took all of the composure Kiku had to not laugh at the childish expression.

"I'm truly sorry, I called you a child," he tried to make his words sound sincere and Isabella almost believed him, almost, "when you are most certainly not like one _at all_." Kiku let his left hand trail up the sides of the young woman and down her spine in an almost longing fashion. He pressed himself up against her knee.

"Heracles is in the country." The unfazed secretary reminded the shameless man of his boyfriend's arrival from Greece at the Boston airport. It would be a messy matter to deal with otherwise.

"He may be in the country, but he isn't here." His gentle mask looked fake with his eyes full of mirth and his smile-turned-smirk. Once hand placed itself on her thigh knee, the other moved up to undo the bun in her hair, letting her curls gently unwind and fall to the middle of her back. He started to rake his fingers through through the dark curls and rub small circles up her leg.

Isabella rolled eyes but her legs slowly uncrossed themselves and were a little more open than need be, "You are so warped, _Mr. Kiku Honda_ ," her voice sounded critical and her expression was just as disgusted as it ought to be. In contrast to her words, her nimble fingers had begun to loosen his tie and the first three buttons of his suit. When she was done, her long arms wrapped around the Japanese man's neck loosely. What ensued afterwards, I leave to your imaginations.


	3. "Top Ten" Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presenting *drum role* the types!  
> /)0U0)/ (In Random Order):
> 
> #1 The Tsundere  
> #2 The Childlike One  
> #3 The Sadistic One  
> #4 The Romantic One  
> #5 The Smooth Talker  
> #6 The Sexy One  
> #7 The Player  
> #8 The Bold One  
> #9 The Cool, Silent One  
> #10 The Calm One
> 
> Can you figure out who's who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each quote holds a clue to what will happen in there future...  
> Good Luck!

 

_"Where do the consequences lead? Depends on the escort."_

_~ Stanislaw Lem_

 

"He seems like a nice guy!"

"What's up with that piece of hair sticking up?"

"Oh, blond with blue eyes! He's like a Barbie Ken doll!"

"His phisique is, what do you call it... ah, impressive!"

"He looks a little young though... is he old enough to appreciate a glass of fine wine?"

"Hey... I think we're freaking him out."

Indeed, Alfred was freaked out by the sudden attention he was receiving. Not even two seconds passed after walking through the glass doors of the (stunning) _SeKS_ building when he found himself pressed with his back against the same door he walked in and surrounded by a horde of very attractive women and men. Whom have been relentlessly attacking the poor American with questions after questions he couldn't remember to answer.

Were real-life escorts always this excitable and curious? If they were, then Alfred would have no problem fulfilling his job duties. But he knew better than to think life was that easy and he was right.

The idle chatter ceased the moment the escorts heard the loud, for being in a large and empty facility, clapping from the side. Isabella stopped clapping and did not feel intimidated at least as she walked closer to the group of good-looking people that know had their attention solely on her. Alfred watched as several of his attackers made way to let her through until she was at the very center where she stopped, turned and smiled to them, "I know you guys are all very interested in the new boy here, but you guys can't just attack attack a _person_ without introducing yourselves or giving him or her a chance to do the same. Aren't you all professionals?"

Everyone looked rather sheepish as a soft murmur rose in the air and various individuals scratched their heads or fiddled with the something loose on their clothes. In Alfred's mind, what the secretary did was considered a "low blow" to the escorts, and his, self-esteem. He was aiming to be like these people and being told that he did not match up to their standards was very upsetting. It was helpful and he was grateful, but definitely she could have said something else.

Isabella sighed when no-one did what she hinted them to do. Oh well, that was what she, the secretary, was here to remind to do, "Before I go back to do my actual work, Francis, Feliciano, Lovino, Rosa, Anya, Elizabeta, Gilbert, Lukas, and Matthew, this is your new colleague, Alfred, and from now on, until he becomes one of our best escorts, Mr. Honda _implores_ all of you to mentor him, show him the ropes, and teach him the rules, while at the same time doing your regular job as professionals. Any questions?"

A man with dark-mud hair and long curl suddenly quipped, "When you mean 'all of us' does that also include..."

"Yes, that also includes him."

"He's going to be so pissed," the man smirked in amusement and several others snickered. Whatever or whomever they were thinking of must be entertaining, Alfred summarized.

The secretary considered this, "I'll tell him then," and simply walked away, leaving the American alone with chuckling strangers.

Seeing as everyone was laughing at a secret he had yet to learn, Alfred decided to take the initiative for once and at least try to make himself the decent human being, "Hi there, I'd like to officially introduce myself, I'm Alfred F. Jones, nineteen and a first year at Prep-Tech, nice to meet ya all." He extended his hand, in hopes any of them would take it.

Everyone just stopped and stared at the young boy with the same perplexity the secretary had given him the day before and slightly wide-eyes. It didn't last (thank goodness) until one of the six males gingerly took his hand and shook it. The male, with blond-wavy, shoulder-length hair, glasses just like Alfred, but taller in height than the American (by an inch or two) spoke in a soft-hesitant tone, "It nice to meet you too, Alfred... um, I'm #10 on the board, Matthew."

 _Number on the board... What the hell does that mean?_ The American wondered, but of course, didn't ask for fear of being thought of as stupid.

The next one to introduce themselves was an energetic, very smiley man that looked like a copy of the man with mud-brown hair, "Ciao~ I'm Feliciano! Number 4 on the board and over there," pointed to the man with mud-brown hair," is my _fratello_ , my brother, Lovino, he's number 5 currently!" Said man gave him a frown.

_Oh, so there twins... and here I was thinking that one of them was the clone of the other... I really need to take a break from Sy-Fy._

Then, to Alfred's delight, one of the women came forward," Hello, my name is Elizabeta and currently #6, I hope we'll be able to get along," Alfred was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from the slow way her eyes closed then opened in a blink. Her voice had been that soothing to his ear.

Luckily, he was woken up from his daze by a hard slap on the back, "Just for this week, Princess," Alfred looked to his side to see the stricking man with even more shocking appearance of white hair and what looked to be red eyes, "I'm the master of awesomeness! Gilbert and #7 for this week." He announced loudly before unhooking his arm around the American's shoulder and glaring at the attractive woman.

"He can be annoying, _non_?" Alfred jumped when a man, with the same type of hair style as the first, but a sharper face with stubble under his chin holding a finely grown yellow rose in his hands asked.

"But that is the redeeming quality that our customers like him for, so don't be afraid to be yourself," Francis handed him the rose which Alfred, not wanting to be the bad guy, took the corny looking thing, "My name is Francis, #2 on the board." He smiled at the surprised expression on the American's face, "Weren't expecting such old-fashioned gesture to get me anywhere, hmm?"

Alfred didn't answer and instead looked at the long silver-haired beauty in front of him. He said she was beautiful, but he felt an instant dislike for her, for some reason, " I'm Anya, number 3 on the board." Oh, so she was Russian, no wonder he had an instant dislike for her.

"I'm Lukas and I'm number 9." Turns out that man with the cross clip in his hair was a man. Go figure?

"I'm Rosa," A beautiful shaped, rounded, woman with a Spanish accent lovingly smiled, " and I'm number 8 on the board."

In his head, Alfred had memorized all the names and number (which he still wondered why they had numbers but could kind of guess why) he was given, and as he tucked them all away he realized that in no matter what game, sports wise or video game wise or educational, there was always a number one place. So who was it? Was he even here? Alfred counted, not including himself, there were only 9 escorts present.

"Hey, is someone mis-"

"For the last time, move your bloody, fucking arse away from the door or you'll get hurt!"

Now there were ten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might come back and rewrite this, so please check in for changes!!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Yup, definitely revising some things!

**Author's Note:**

> An embarrassed America is fun to play with!


End file.
